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Affection, Atlanta, Blue Lines, California, Key Yemaya Walker, Love, Muse, poetry, Prose, Short Stories, What I Learned Sundays
Muse [myooz] noun
1. Classical Mythology.
b. any goddess presiding over a particular art.
2. (sometimes lowercase ) the goddess or the power regarded as inspiring a poet, artist, thinker, or the like.
3. (lowercase ) the genius or powers characteristic of a poet.
This may sound bad, but I’ve lost my muse. It happened once before, and the production of 30-40 new pieces, poetry, prose, and short stories, have been the catalyst of that muse.
While writing, I pondered whether…honestly when would this happen. Though, the loss of a muse to inspire my writing, personally is saddening, I like writing, the change is not bad, but just a change in…a way of thinking. I wish I could better explain, but I learned of this shift unexpectedly, as I decided to purposely write a commemorative piece. Something that drew from real feelings, a thought to initiate a smile, etc. etc. etc. but as I sat, the weird feeling that I feared some many years ago arose.
Then it was a, “what happens if the events that inspired this work change, and those events no longer make sense?” that moment never happened, and I was able to virtually finish, and make a shift from muse to actually character. However, to restate, this was a new feeling, change, shift.
Does that mean, I’ve achieved what I was looking for? Continue reading
